


Fandral's Kiss

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Ergi, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, Rejection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 16:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10971069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Request: fandral/loki, first kiss?





	Fandral's Kiss

“Leave me be,” Fandral snaps, and Loki watches his back, keeping a wary distance. Fandral stands at the edge of the lake waters, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his sword stuck into the ground at his feet; anger radiates from him in waves.

It is the first time Loki has been permitted to join one of the adventures of the Warriors and Thor, and it is… not as he expected.

In the palace, Loki is often the butt of the jokes made by Sif and the small mischiefs played by Volstagg, and the bigger ones by Thor: in the field, however, it would seem that Fandral gets similar treatment. Dimly, Loki understands that once Fandral gets his footing with the new arrangement, he will change the tide, but he has no wish to think of that now.

Later, much later, Loki would curse himself for his youthful naïvety.

“Are you alright?” Loki asks, and Fandral turns his head to face Loki, his pretty lip curled. In recent years, he has begun to grow a beard, but it bears no resemblance to the heavy, flowing beard of Volstagg or the rugged look of Thor’s jaw. Fandral’s moustache is thin and golden blond, and even with his goatee, he is more pretty than handsome.

Volstagg had said as much, and Fandral had lost his temper: that had only made Volstagg laugh more, of course, and were Fandral Loki, his emotions would be better schooled.

Fandral is not Loki.

Fandral looks behind Loki, as if searching for one of the others behind him, and he narrows his eyes slightly. “Surely the mischief-maker isn’t guilty of sympathy?”

“Surely the dashing hasn’t walked down to the lakeside to weep,” Loki retorts in the same wounded tone, and Fandral lets out a short, barked laugh.

“Surely not,” Fandral says, and he takes two steps closer. They are under the wide umbrella of a weeping willow, ensconced in the capacity of her hanging curtains: Loki feels a cool rush within his cheeks, and he knows he must be blushing.

“I merely wished to ensure you were well,” Loki says, taking a step back. Fandral steps forwards. The dance continues until Loki - quite intentionally - traps himself against the body of the wide and ancient tree. The moonlight that makes its way through the willow’s curtain barely serves to illuminate their faces, and Loki feels Fandral’s breath upon his lips, but can only make out the shine of his eyes.

“Are you here to offer me comfort?” Fandral asks, lowly. Loki has heard propositions from him before, but never have they been alone when the words are proffered, and never has Loki had to consider his answer.

“Yes,” Loki says, after a pause. He is not a virgin, after all, though Thor would never know - this might be his first adventure alongside his brother’s cohorts, but for years now he has Skywalked between realms (and bedrooms) as he pleases.

He sees the slight shine of Fandral’s lips as he smiles, and then he leans in as Fandral kisses him. Fandral’s mouth is hot and clever, but Loki’s focus is upon his hands - gentle and uncalloused - where they cup Loki’s cheeks. Despite himself, Loki lays own palms over Fandral’s wrists, as if to ground himself.

Fandral kisses him soundly, sweetly, and when he draws back, stepping away from the prince, Loki is almost confused.

“You and I have different definitions of comfort,” Loki says, and Fandral laughs, an edge to the sound.

“You might be ergi, Loki, but not sufficiently for my tastes.” Loki stares at Fandral, his mouth open, amd Fandral adds, “Perhaps another time.” The “when I’m more desperate” is quite silent, but Loki hears it nonetheless.

He flees the canopy of the tree and he brings from the lake’s surface a heavy wave. It crashes upon the shore and soaks the willow’s hanging leaves - Fandral yelps like a kicked dog, and Loki laughs a sharp laugh, wiping his mouth of Fandral, as he walks back to camp.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hope you enjoyed that! Check [this link](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/post/160853818533/request-commission-information) out if you’re interested in making a request.


End file.
